Mad Max: Badlands
by adam t wilson
Summary: Weeks after Bartertown crumbles, Max continues his trek across the desert looking for anything, but finding something much worse than Bartertown.
1. Chapter 1

**Mad Max: Badlands**

Chapter 1: The Road

The Road. That's all there was left anymore. Two directions: straight ahead, or straight behind. Sand blew across his face and the road, catching in places. Dunes formed. The yellow line almost not visible anymore.

He moved the ragged black shirt from his face and dumped a couple drops of water into his parched mouth. They hit the dry skin and disappeared instantly, providing no satisfaction.

It had been so long since anything happened. He hadn't seen another living person in a week now.

The last one he saw alive, if that was what you could call him, didn't last long once Max found him. He was lying on the road, almost completely covered in sand. A crow had actually landed on the old man's leg and had ripped some of the man's pants, and torn a piece of flesh from his thigh, which didn't seem to bother the man at all.

'Hello, traveler,' the man said when Max crouched next to him. The man spoke without being asked anything while Max glanced over him, looking for useful tools to take with him.

'Not much behind us there, huh?' he said, smiling. His eyes never opened. He didn't move except for his mouth.

'Did you hear about Auntie?' he said. 'Old bitch got what she deserved if you ask me.' He chuckled as Max pocketed a knife the man had lying beside him. Max smiled, still scavenging.

'Do you know what's up ahead?' he paused. Max looked at the man for the first time. 'I've heard paradise lies on this road.'

'Paradise?' Max repeated, looking on ahead the road. Dirt. Dunes. Desolation. The Road.

'Yes, up ahead,' the man's hand raised, a ragged finger pointing in the direction they were both headed. 'There.'

'Where'd you hear this, mate?' Max asked. 'About this paradise.'

'It's the word,' the man said, his arm falling back to the sand.

'The word?' Max asked, frowning. He spied two canteens. Hopefully full, or somewhat full.

'The word of the road,' the man said. He coughed. Max thought about offering the man some water, but knew that is was futile: the man was dying. His features had sunken. He was frail and thin. A ragged black shirt. Torn denim. No shoes. It was almost a miracle he'd made it this far.

'Please, take this key,' the man started another coughing fit. Max accepted it and looked down into his palm. The key was covered in blood. Faintly, underneath the blood, gold could be seen.

'Paradise,' he voice trailed off. 'Believe me. Have faith, traveler.'

Max closed the man's eyes, snatched the canteens, both half full, and quickly searched the man for anything else useful.

And now, he looked down at the blood key in his hand. _Paradise_.

He wrapped the shirt across his face again. Up ahead, nothing but the road. Max started off again. Heading towards what the man had called paradise.

Max had a sinking feeling in his stomach, that much like everything else left in this world, that this paradise was going to either end up being a huge disappointment, or a real pain in the ass.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Devils and Dust

The sun beat down across the desert. Nothing was safe from its unbreakable persistence.

Max rambled down the road. His eyes were heavy. Sleep wasn't common for travelers on the road. Stopping to rest was letting your guard down. And if you let your guard down, you ended up being looted by road pirates. Or dead.

Exhaustion was beyond Max. He moved forward on instinct alone. One of his canteens had water in it now. The other long empty. One foot in front of the other, his steps barely a shuffle.

He always kept his eye on the horizon, but nothing ever came. He was always waiting to see something, anything, coming towards him, but nothing ever came. It was almost as if there was nothing left anywhere. That, or this road was the last road left.

Beyond all exhaustion, Max sat down in the middle of the road. He opened his canteen, poured a small amount of water in his mouth, and rested his arms over his knees. He stared at the road, scratching his quickly thickening beard and wondered how far away paradise was.

A low, grumbling rumble began to hum in the distance. Max stood up, looking to the four horizons for a sign of the noise. He quickly pivoted to each of the directions, seeing nothing. No dust cloud. No shadows. Nothing. He looked up the road, in the direction he was heading, and noticed a glimmer of light on metal coming over a hill on the road ahead.

Max patted his pockets, feeling the man's lifted knife in one pocket. He stood in the middle of the road, and waited for whatever it was to come across him. The rumble getting closer and closer.

As the vehicle came closer, Max recognized its shape, but hadn't seen one in a long time. The large inflated bottom was patched in numerous places, the fan on the back hidden inside a well-dented cage. The platform carried one driver, and three other passengers: two hulking figures that carried large rifles and one seated figure, who looked as thought he wouldn't be able to stand long without wanting to sit down again for the size of his stomach.

Max squinted as he looked up at the men. All four of them stared back at him. Each man wore a dust-covered army uniform and a full face shield that resembled a welder's mask. Max wondered if they were really army men, or if they just worn the uniforms to scare anyone. Not that the army meant anything anymore. The Fat Man wore a long open coat and dusty torn pants. His coat was open to display a well-sunburned chest.

'You're on our road, traveler,' the man driving called down to Max. He smiled to himself at the fact that the last two people he'd seen alive had both called him the same thing.

'I didn't know anyone owned this road,' Max said back.

'Where do you think you be goin, friend?' the Fat Man said, leaning one meaty forearm heavily on the arm of his chair.

'Just going for a walk,' Max replied.

The Fat Man chuckled, closely followed by laughter from his two guards and the driver.

'Nobody walks anymore,' the Fat Man chuckled again.

'There's nobody around anymore,' Max said.

'True enough,' the Fat Man said. He sucked at something in his teeth. 'Now, for the real, just where d'you think you be goin'?'

Max looked from the Fat Man to the others and back to the man in the chair.

'Someone told me paradise waits at the end of this road,' he said. The Fat Man said nothing. 'Do you know?'

'Know what?' the Fat Man said.

'What lies at the end of this road?' Max said.

'Yes, brother,' the Fat Man said. 'Something does lie at the end of this road here. Whether or not its paradise, that's in the eye of the beholder. But there is something there.'

Max nodded his head, and looked from the men down the road in the direction they came from.

'How long?' Max asked.

'How much water do you have?' the Fat Man asked.

'Half a canteen,' Max replied, shaking it in his hand. The men all chuckled again.

'You don't have near enough water to make it to yer paradise there, brother,' the Fat Man said.

'Maybe you could help me with that then,' Max replied. All the men burst out laughing, Max smiled as well.

'Favors come at a price, friend,' the Fat Man said.

'They always did,' Max replied.

'What do you have that I could possibly want?'

'Its not what I have,' Max said. 'Its what I can do for you. I offer you my services. And in return, a ride.'

The Fat Man stroked his chin, squinting.

'Who are you anyways? Who are you really?' the Fat Man leaned forward.

'I'm just a traveler,' Max said. 'The name's Max.'

One of the masked guards leaned down to the Fat Man. He whispered something in his ear and returned to his stoic position. The Fat Man stared down at Max, scowling.

'Max, huh?' the Fat Man said. 'You haven't been to Bartertown recently, have you?'

'Bartertown?' Max replied. 'Never heard of it.' The Fat Man smirked and Max smirked back.

'A ride,' the Fat Man said, as he stood up. He took a step towards Max and reached down a hand. 'For your services.'

Max nodded, took the Fat Man's hand and was pulled onto the platform. The Fat Man laughed when beside Max. He clapped him on the back, a cloud of dust smoked from Max's coat.

'Your paradise awaits,' the Fat Man laughed as he sat back in his chair. Max looked at the guard who'd whispered in the Fat Man's ear. He stood as still as possible. His face completely hidden behind his mask. Max couldn't tell where the guard was looking, but for a brief second, Max swore the guard nodded once at him.

The violent humming began again as the vehicle turned around and carried all of its passengers towards the horizon. Max sat on the platform, covered his face with the ragged black shirt, and watched their destination slowly move towards them. His curiosity led his eyes back towards the masked guard, who stared straight ahead, not looking down at Max for the remainder of the journey.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Eden's Landing

"Welcome," the Fat Man said. " To Eden's Landing."

The vehicle slowed down outside of the walled city. Max looked at the wall, at least twenty storeys high, completely constructed out of old cars and scraps found on the road. They were stacked one on top of the other like a pyramid. They were black and charred in spots, where it looked like some battles had raged against the city.

"Charming," Max said.

"Just you wait," the Fat Man said, stepping out of his chair for the first time since Max met him. "You ain't seen nothing yet, traveler."

The Fat Man hopped off the vehicle with surprising agility and walked over to the looming gate. He banged three times on the door, the noise echoing across the desert.

"Who be wantin' to enter?" a loud voice boomed. Max looked towards the top of the wall and saw speakers every few feet.

"Open the fraggin' gate," the Fat Man said irritated. "We have a visitor." He looked back at Max and smiled.

"We don't take no visitors here," the voice boomed back.

"Fraggin' sand devils!" the Fat Man hollered. There was a klunk as a small slot opened in the gate. A gun barrel slid out the slot and pointed directly at the Fat Man's face. There was a second klunk as another opened and another barrel slid out and pointed at the Fat Man's crotch. The guards on the vehicle jumped off the side and came to the Fat Man's side, pointing their guns back at the slots.

Max remained on the vehicle. If worse came to worse, he'd get a ride out this standoff anyway. He stood, surveying the wall. He could see cameras staring or turning to stare at the scene.

"Tell us your business or leave, stranger," the voice said.

"Open this gate," the Fat Man boomed back, standing defiantly. "Open this gate in the name of The Father!"

"And what is your business with The Father?" the voice boomed.

"He's my brother," the Fat Man said, crossing his arms over his chest. He frowned and looked up into the cameras. There was a loud boom and the creaking of old rusty hinges and the gates began to swing open.

The Fat Man turned and looked back at Max, smiling. Max watched as the gates opened like a mouth into Hell and saw the city of Eden's Landing slowly exposed before him. Max looked at the Fat Man.

"As I said," the Fat Man said as he climbed back onto the craft. "Welcome to Eden's Landing."

The driver started the craft and began the slow entry into the city. Max couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was like the cities of old. Large buildings loomed overhead, blocking out the sun. Vehicles and people bustled about on the streets. Street markets were overrun by pedestrians and vendors, each selling and buying whatever they could.

"It's something, isn't it?" the Fat Man leaned into Max and whispered. Max nodded, still gazing around. Shock was the only expression on his face. _How did something like this still exist?_ Max wondered. It was as if the apocalypse didn't touch this city at all. Almost as if someone knew ahead of time, and did everything they could to prevent it from reaching inside the city's walls. It didn't look pieced together like everything else did that was left in this world; it didn't look like Bartertown.

Everything was solid. Everything was whole. Everything was right. Or seemed right anyway.

There was something deep down inside Max, a feeling, that things weren't as they seemed in Eden's Landing. Much like everything else in this destroyed world, the façade it gave out was beautiful and incredible and unbelievable. But deep down in the bowels of the city, there lurked something that would bring this place to its knees.

Just like in Bartertown, Max had a funny feeling that Eden's Landing was too good to be true. As he looked around at the smiling faces and hard-working locals, there had to be someone somewhere in this city that was cautious of this place.

The vehicle slowly moved through the main square, the Fat Man pointing things out to Max, Max looking in turn.

"Look," the Fat Man said, pointing up at a tall building. Plastered on the side of the building, was an enormous face of a smiling man. He looked too well dressed and his teeth were too white and there was a feeling from looking at the picture that he didn't seem to experience the same desolation that everyone else in the world was suffering from.

"My brother," the Fat Man smiled, proudly, but somewhat forced. "The Father, Michael."

Actually, the more Max looked around, the more he noticed The Father's visage on more than just buildings. His image appeared on smaller posters with slogans like 'The Father Praises Your Hard Work' and showed him warmly hugging a road-weary traveler with the words 'Eden's Landing Welcomes You' emblazoned across it. Occasionally, a poster of a scowling Father appeared with the slogan, 'The Father Expects You To Obey the Laws.'

Max took his gaze away from the posters and watched everything move around them, and as the vehicle moved forward into the middle of Eden's Landing, the city seemed to be swallowing them whole.

"I want you to meet someone," the Fat Man said to Max. Max didn't look at him, but he knew exactly where they were going.


End file.
